


nightmare

by truth_seeker_1789



Series: Suptober 2K19 [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Billie (Supernatural: Form and Void) is Death, But Fate Can Be Delayed, Character Death, Established Relationship, Fate is Predetermined, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Person Billie (Supernatural: Form and Void), Guardian Angels, May/December Relationship, Reaper Billie (Supernatural: Form and Void), Suptober 2019 (Supernatural), for a little while, suptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 00:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_seeker_1789/pseuds/truth_seeker_1789
Summary: the only dreams she encountered were recurring nightmares of eventually reaping you.





	nightmare

*

She had watched your death over 3000 times.

Each iteration was different, some possibilities past their time frame, some not set for several more decades.

But she knew intimately how you would meet each potential demise, knew that each night she held you brought you one step closer to the final curtain.

She didn't want to let you go.

She had once considered burning the books, to try to find a way to immortalize you beyond the preordained pages of the Fates. But the books, once written, could not be destroyed.

Your doom was already etched among the stars, carved into the earth's core, dancing tremulously with your every breath. She had seen every possible outcome, subtly tried to shape the strings in her own selfish favour.

You would live forever were it her say, but even this was beyond her.

The most she could do was actively ensure you maintained a healthy lifestyle, avoided taking that turn for two more seconds, completely avoided the trip to Tokyo in October.

They were little things, and while some of her warnings were greeted with the stirring embers of wrath, you accepted her wisdom with little debate, preserving your immortality for just a few months, years, decades at a time.

You had once asked her if she ever slept, if she ever had dreams.

At the time, she had lied and said that Death never rests, the Death never sleeps.

But she had been lying, preferring to see your soft acceptance as you drifted peacefully into another evening pleasant sleep. Her fingers brushed over your forehead, mentally counting each wrinkle, tracing over the thousands of shades to each follicle of hair, taking inventory of every little sign of how you were already starting to slip away from her.

Death had once claimed she never had dreams.

She was lying.

The only dreams she encountered were recurring nightmares of eventually reaping you.

*


End file.
